Brad and I had only been married two years and recently graduated from the newlywed syndrome. We still had sex. A lot. But it wasn’t like it used to be. You know how it is. Always touching, looking for any excuse to go at it like rabbits. Five times a day and it wasn’t enough. These days, five times a week was the norm.
The IRS kindly afforded us a big return so we decided to splurge. We were doing
Hard Core Porn okay at a time when the rest of the world was in dire economic straits, so we said ‘what the hell’. Throwing caution to the wind, I made a call to our travel agent, packed up an overnight bag and we hopped a plane to the neon city of lights.
Wanting to use most of our money for gambling we skipped on a suite and opted for a tiny room at an off boulevard hotel. It didn’t matter. All we needed it for was sleeping, fucking and a place to shower.
The first night we wasted half our cash gambling, saw a show, ate like pigs and drank way too much. It was a blast. But the second night was our indoctrination to the catch phrase of ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’.
Brad was too embarrassed to ask me if we could go see some of the adult entertainment available, but I like to think I’m a fairly empathetic wife. I could sense it. His eyes would stray towards the never ending stream of posters advertising burlesque shows or erotic dancers. Truth be told, I was curious myself.
I wouldn’t have said I was bisexual, but beautiful women were certainly a pleasure
Adult hard Porn to see. A naked one was even more exciting I suppose, but it was more how it affected Brad. He wouldn’t ever let on, thinking it a bad thing for a husband to like or enjoy, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think any man wouldn’t be happy to see a naked hot chick. We all wish it weren’t true. A nice fantasy, but guys are wired that way.
I took it upon myself to make sure we hit one of the many erotic dance clubs on the strip, since he wouldn’t. Without asking, I grabbed his hand and lead him inside a cheesy looking club. The leopard skin print and pink fur that lined damn near every single thing in the club was tacky, but not out of place.
He blushed but followed as I grinned at him. We had both put away several drinks and I was feeling pretty relaxed. I could do this. I found us a booth that was close enough to the main stage to give us both a little buffer and a great view of the dancers.
